Blennerhassett, who had been a silent witness to these events, returned to his quarters in the penitentiary. The day in court and the intense heat oppressed him. He dined with less appetite than the day before, and tried to get cool by pacing his commodious cell and fanning himself. But it did no good. He soon found himself so weak he had to lie on the floor, and there he slept he knew not how long. At length he awakened on hearing mention of the name of Mrs. Alston. A servant had come from Theodosia bearing a gift of oranges, lemons, and limes. This was not the first time she had showed the same attention. In fact Blennerhassett had not been in prison half an hour before her first gift arrived--tea, sugar, and cakes. Alston had come, too, to offer reassurances on the score of the money Blennerhassett had sunk in the adventure. He had not been too successful in this, since Blennerhassett had formed a dislike for him. In fact it seemed as though Blennerhassett, disarmed by Burr’s ingratiating manner, vented his spleen on the unoffending Alston. Alston had brought with him Edmund Randolph who volunteered his professional services in Blennerhassett’s defense. There were other compensations for being behind bars. The prisoner was permitted to hire a servant at $13 a month to wait on him. He was given every liberty inside the prison, except that he could not pass from under its roof by day or out of his room by night. He did, therefore, have to suffer the indignity of being locked in from 8 o’clock in the evening until sunrise. On the other hand, no objection was made to his stocking up with groceries and liquors. His dinner was provided by a tavern across the road from the penitentiary. He also enjoyed the services of a fellow prisoner who was a skillful barber. “This Vaun,” he recorded in his diary, “is only here for 18 years, merely for cutting his wife’s throat with precisely the same sort of instrument with which he operates most delicately on mine every other day.” There came also a message from a lady unknown to him who did not wish to have her name mentioned, begging him to accept soups and jellies. Later Blennerhassett learned her identity. No wonder the lady felt a delicacy about having her name mentioned as a benefactor of Burr’s alleged accomplice. She was Eliza Carrington, adoring sister-in-law of the Chief Justice and wife of the juryman who was to have an important part in trying Colonel Burr. Washington Irving was no doubt right when he praised Richmond’s women for their compassion, their boldness, and their independence. Could he have said as much for their discretion? Tuesday, August 11, was another sweltering day. The Court concerned itself with completing the jury. The proceedings were uneventful save for one brief moment when a venireman named Hamilton Morrison was challenged by the defense.